


ABC's of Destiel Drabbles

by misha_collins_butt



Series: ABC Drabbles [1]
Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom, sabriel - Fandom
Genre: Cake, Dancing, DeanCas - Freeform, Definitely OOC Dean, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Fluff, Destiel Wedding, Destiel mostly, Drabbles, First Kiss, Flower Crowns, Fluff, Grumpy!Cas, Hurt!Cas, Impala Sex, Implied Sabriel, M/M, Nerd!sam, OOC, Oops, Smut, Sometimes PWP, Sweet!Dean, dean is bi, dean is scared of spiders, dean/cas - Freeform, destiel marriage, destiel oneshots, destiel smut, explicit mention of alcohol, how does that always happen?, human!Cas, meta!dean, protective!Dean, sorry - Freeform, sort of, super OOC Cas, wingless!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 19:57:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 13,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4317840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misha_collins_butt/pseuds/misha_collins_butt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just some Destiel drabbles in alphabetical order<br/>The last fic I posted didn't really even get very many hits so ???¿? Idk. I guess this is kind of a 'so sorry I can't fucking write'.</p><p>I apologise, in advance, for these being so shitty.</p><p>Chapter summary: applause at their wedding</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Applause

**Author's Note:**

> I used to say drabbles were for the weak who could not stretch a story into more than a hundred words, but they're so fun to write. I will never doubt the power of drabbles again. Only the 'Galaxy' one is based on the picture, the rest may be accompanied by pictures but none are based on them. I have no beta and some of these were not American-picked, and all mistakes are mine.

Dean's fingers are hooked behind Cas' ear and his palm is warm on his jaw, his thumb continuing to slide across his cheekbone.

His eyes are sparkling and glimmering and full of adoration and amour and Cas just thinks they're so perfect for eachother.

He adjusts the hem of his white tux one more time with his free hand, the one that's not holding a huge bundle of flowers, and the priest says they can kiss now and Dean's fist curls around the right lapel of his jacket and suddenly he's being jerked forward and their lips are sliding together.

The applause is almost frighteningly loud even though there are only a few people - Sam and Gabe and Meg and Charlie and Kevin and Jo and Ellen and Bobby and Pam and Jody and Jess and her boyfriend and Michael and Lucifer - but they don't break apart.

Cas thinks it's the best kiss they've had yet.


	2. Beastly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Possessive!dean yes

All the girl did was glance at Cas. That's it. Nothing more.

And yet Dean had growled and grabbed Cas around the waist and dragged him out of the cafe, coffees in hand and when they'd gotten back to the loft, Dean had shoved him against the wall, coffee discarded somewhere on the floor, and had latched onto his neck.

And now his hand is wrapped tightly around Cas' cock and he's panting and nipping at the hinge of Cas' jaw and growling in his ear, chest rumbling and sending beautiful vibrations through Cas' body as he says "you're mine, Cas, you got that? Fucking mine, no one else's."

Cas only nods and gasps again when Dean's lips fall wet and hot against the soft spot behind his ear and his cock gives a very interested twitch in Dean's hand.

"Say it."

"Yours!" He gasps, arching his back, mouth falling open in a silent scream. "Oh, fuck! I'm yours, all yours!"

"Damn right," Dean breathes and Cas comes thick and intense over Dean's hand, eyes falling closed as his throat constricts.

Maybe he should make Dean jealous more often.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably just gonna not do the photos with the fics because I can't figure it out. Rather frustrating because I found some really cute photos to accompany them but whatever.


	3. Cement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They stick their hands in wet cement because awh

Dean peeks out through the giant living room window and grins wolfishly. 

That can't be good.

He turns to Cas as the beep of some sort of truck backing up rings through their house.

"I have an idea," he says in that kind of throaty voice that always gets Cas on edge.

"Okay...?" He replies tentatively and lets Dean drag him out through the front door by his wrist.

They stumble down the front walk and then onto the newly dried cement of the pavement. The company who paved the roads just a year back wanted to come back in and re-do the pavements "because they were too cracked and looked strange in contrast to the new road".

Dean pulls him along up to a square of cement that's still wet and grins at him again. Cas' eyebrows shoot up when he realises where this is going.

"No way, Dean--"

"Oh, come on."

"They'll yell at us," Cas grinds out between gritted teeth but Dean only gives him a sideways smirk, crouches down, and promptly sticks his hands into the first few layers of cement, enough that it won't flood over his hands but it will leave a mark.

Cas' face is torn between scolding and amused as Dean smiles brightly up at him and eventually he gives in and laughs at the faces Dean insists on making before leaning down next to his husband and pressing his hands into the cement next to the indents of Dean's hands.

Dean grins even wider and then, as Cas stands, draws a heart in the corner with their initials inside.

Cas shakes his head with adorationand tugs at Dean's shirt collar, and Dean shoots up and meets him halfway with quick, sweet kiss.

"You're a dumbass," Cas muses but Dean smiles that cocky smile.

"Love you too, Cas," he laughs and they lace fingers as they stroll back to house together.


	4. Dove

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is rather fond of chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tooth rotting fluff in the most literal sense.

He moans delightedly around the square of chocolate melting on his tongue and smirks at Dean, who's currently raising a sceptical brow at him.

"It _cannot_  taste that good," Dean states, though he can feel that moan all the way down to his crotch, and then turns back to his own dinner, which looks nothing like Cas' - a burger and fries and two beers instead of little crumpled pieces of tin littering the table beside five more carefully wrapped squares of chocolate.

Cas chuckles low and leans forward, elbows coming up to the tabletop and chin resting in the palms of his hands as he gazes auspiciously at Dean.

"You know what else _cannot_  taste that good," Cas mumbles, then reaches out and stills Dean's hand, which was about to reach for another fry. Dean's lips part and his eyes twitch up to his ex-angel as some sort of shade of fuschia spreads across his cheeks and down through his shoulders.

He gulps, then whispers weakly, "What."

Cas bites his lower lip, then brings Dean's finger up to his lips, kissing the tip of it just barely and sending violent shudders down Dean's arms.

"You," Cas murmurs against Dean's finger before closing his lips around it and sucking down to the third knuckle.

A shiver slams up Dean's spine and he leans closer, across the table, pulling his finger away as he does, then sliding his lips between Cas', earning himself a light, needy moan.

Cas tastes like chocolate.


	5. Elbow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is a squirmy sleeper and he tends to elbow Dean in his sleep

Cas does it again and Dean groans in contempt.

"Fuck you," he mumbles and rolls over, further away from his sleeping partner - and partner in general - and settling back in.

Cas keeps elbowing him his sleep, has always been a very physically active sleeper, which Dean discovered when the angel-turned-human decided he was too sad about The Fall to sleep on his own so he started sleeping with Dean. And not even in that way. He'd simply told Dean what he was feeling and asked if he could curl up in Dean's bed instead and, while Dean had been hesitant about it - because God knows he's always had feelings for Cas - he allowed it...because Cas needed someone to cuddle up to. He was sad. And who was Dean to turn him down, especially when he knew what that felt like.

It eventually turned into something else and Cas moved into Dean's room permanently and Dean realised, soon enough, that Cas likes to flail in his sleep.

Cas scoots closer, heat seeking missile he is, and gets Dean in the back and Dean's had enough.

He rolls back over, wraps his arms tightly around Cas' chest and arms, and holds him to himself, legs tangling with Cas' and head coming to rest on top of the former angel's.

Cas stirs and scrunches his eyebrows in.

"Dean? What are you--"

"You keep elbowing me, you dumbass," Dean whispers acridly but lets Cas know he's just frustrated by finishing it with a quick kiss to the shell of his ear.

"Oh," Cas replies as he brings his hands up and hooks them around Dean's forearms. "'M sorry, baby."

Dean smiles softly at the nickname, rarely used by Cas because...well, he used to be an angel. His vocabulary is little bit more taught than 'baby'.

Cas doesn't elbow him again and Dean thinks maybe he should hold Cas like this every night.


	6. Flytrap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean keeps Cas company while he watches a flytrap.

Dean strolls into the library, coffee in hand, and spots Cas already sitting at the end of one of the long tables. He smiles before realising what Cas is staring so intently at - a small Venus flytrap, lurid scarlet with chartreuse spikes and an alarmingly leaf green stem, hunched boredly in it's nest of dark brown soil and a reddish-brown pot.

Cas' eyes slowly come up to a squint as he continues to watch it, and Dean watches _him_ quizzically.

Then he ambles over and sets his coffee down by the plant, takes a seat in one of the heavy, cherry wood chairs, scoots closer to Cas so their shoulders and arms are touching, interlaces their fingers and watches along with his angel.

Cas smiles faintly and Dean's heart melts.


	7. Galaxy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas on the hood of the car

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sad because this is the one that's based off a photo but I guess whatever

"You're the universe, Dean. Your skin is the deep purple of a perfect midnight sky and your beautiful freckles are the white pricks that are the stars nestled into the darkness. And your smile is the sun, flaming furiously through the clouds and your eyes are a tree bending gently in a soft breeze. And your laugh is the the wind whipping wildly, pushing a hurricane across the ocean and tearing up onto the beige sand of a desolate beach, of a dried out, droughted area that's thirsty and desperate and wanting and your breath is the soft pink of new born baby's cheeks or of the blossoms on a newly blooming cherry tree at the beginnings of a careful spring. You are life and death and everything in between and you are all that those words represent. You're the entirety of the vast, endless universe, wrapped up in a single, tiny vessel, barely able to hold yourself in," Castiel's voice lilts and drifts through the late night air as he stares up at the dotted sky and searches wistfully through the constellations.

Dean grins, one arm dangling over the shoulders of his Cas, and so he shifts the other one silently, pointing up at the brightest, most gorgeous shooting star he's ever seen.

And his voice doesn't falter, doesn't skip a beat when he replies, "That's us. Whizzing angrily through the Galaxy, our eyes on fire, tearing through everything that even fuckin' tries to stand in our way, ripping a gash in the darkness of the night. Damn, we're beautiful. We're powerful and strong," he shifts again to lace his fingers with Castiel's, and leans their foreheads together, his lids falling down over his eyes and he murmurs, shamelessly, " _You're_  powerful. _You're_  strong. And you're mine."

They stay like that for a while, fingers intertwined, with their foreheads pushed together and their hands pressing into the hood of the Impala as they sit with empty mouths and hazy eyes.

And they smile so sweetly, so adoringly and innocently at eachother, never breaking to gaze back up at the sky because they both know that when they look into eachother's arrogant grins, they'll see the Galaxy right there. In eachother's eyes.

And that's enough for both of them.


	8. Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas misses his wings and Dean kind of gets it.

Cas has been mopey all day and now Dean can't find him. He's looked everywhere and under every rock and between every bookcase and still no Cas.

But as he walks down the hallway toward his room and he passes Cas' room, he catches just a glimpse of muffled sniffling from behind Cas' door.

He pauses, head raising and on alert, eyebrows pulled in and down, concern marring his frown bent lips.

Dean backsteps and presses his ear to the door, and, finding that someone, indeed, is crying somewhere on the other side, he opens it, peeking in.

Cas' head whips up and he quickly scrubs away at his cheeks to erase the evidence of his sadness. Dean only lowers his brows with hurt concern and stares at him for a moment.

"Cas?"

"Yes."

Dean's jaw moves and his lips open but no sound comes out for a second.

Then:

"Were you just crying?"

Pause.

"No."

Uncertainty. Shame.

Dean shakes his head and lowers himself slowly down next to Cas, perching gingerly on the edge of the bed and resting his elbows on his knees, twining his fingers together between his legs, and leaning forward as he tilts his head to catch Cas' gaze.

"Cas, it's okay, it's just me. It's me, you can talk to me..." He hesitates, then lifts his arm and circles it around Cas's shoulders, pulling him toward himself. "You can tell me anything...you know that."

Cas just breathes for a second, shaky, uneven, and then suddenly he's twisting and wrapping his own arms around Dean and hugging him close and burying his face in Dean's shoulder and the sobs start all over again.

"I'm sorry," he sniffles, and another sob wracks his body and tremours through Dean as well. "I'm so sorry, Dean, I just-" sob "-I just miss having my wings... they're...they're gone and...and I can't...Dean, I can't--"

"Hey, hey...ssshhh," Dean hushes, fingers coming up to brush through the back of Cas' head, other hand rubbing circles against his back. "Cas, you were an angel...this-this huge...powerful _energy_ for _millions of years_...and to just...to lose your wings? Just like that? Without any warning or-or... _reason_ for you to deserve it? I mean...God, how many times have you helped us. Helped me. Damnit, Cas, you don't deserve this...you don't...I'm sorry."

Cas is silent for a very, very long time and Dean wonders if he's said the wrong thing but then Cas pulls away, lips parted, eyes aimed downward as his hands trail up Dean's back to his neck and then his cheeks and then his lips are on Dean's, all warm and sad and desperate and slow.

Dean's surprised and it takes a moment for him to catch up, but eventually the hand in Cas' hair tightens and the other one slides down around Cas's waist and he pulls Cas closer as he melts into the kiss and Cas's touch.

Dean tugs at Cas and somehow pulls Cas up and over him and the ex-angel swings his leg across eagerly, arms locking around Dean's neck, and now he's taller than Dean so he has to lean down and Dean's hand tangles in the fabric at the base of Cas' back as he pulls him in closer.

They cling to eachother, heads tilted, lips sliding together, tongues prodding and exploring, hands clutching at fabric and hair.

Cas lets out a low, happy noise and Dean grins into the kiss and breathes in deep before pulling away.

He looks up at Cas' hooded galactic eyes, still in shock, but smirking a bit.

"Thank you, Dean," gravel and beer and sun through a big window and the moon glowing against a million stars, all in that stupid, beautiful voice. He steals one more short kiss before burying his face in the side of Dean's neck, repeating it, more muffled, only a broken whisper, "Thank you."

Dean only holds him close.


	9. Iron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Walking along the old abandoned railroad tracks they find near the bunker

Dean smirks and plucks the tiny pastel purple and blue flower up from its nestle in the dirt and speed walks to catch up to Cas.

He scoops up Cas' hand into his own and bumps their shoulders together to get his attention, gazing down at him as they stumble over the wood planks between each rusted iron rail of the train tracks.

Cas turns his head with expectant eyes and smiles up at Dean, leaning in to give him a short peck on the lips. The hunter tugs his hand and they stop walking, turning to face eachother, hands still linked.

Dean holds up the flower between their faces and smiles softly, eyes watering with adoration as he stares down at his angel's face which twists with awe. He reaches up and takes the flower gingerly from Dean's hand as if it's a newborn baby and to drop it would be an awful tragedy.

Cas smiles a gummy smile at the flower, then bites his lower lip and switches his gaze back to Dean, whose moss green eyes twitch between Cas' comet blue ones.

'Thank you,' Cas mouths and leans up to kiss Dean again. They kiss slow and long and beautiful and sweet and Dean doesn't quite understand how in the hell he got so fucking lucky.

They break apart and Cas smiles so lovingly at Dean and then they're walking again, skipping over wood slats and balancing on rails, watching the sun make its lazy path downward behind the horizon.

And they love eachother so incredibly, that the sun stays out just a little longer.

Just to watch them smile little smiles and exchange tiny kisses, and show off an indescribable love that will only ever be their own.


	10. Jail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thrown into a holding cell because they're a "public disturbance" but the guard ships it so they don't get into too much trouble.

The guard shoves them through the doorway to the tiny cell and they stumble back against the back wall, still laughing in spite of the trouble they're in.

Dean peeks down at Cas and smiles a rather suggestive smile, then twirls around so he's holding Cas against the wall. Though they literally _just_  got in trouble for doing this, Dean kisses Cas, hot and wet and deep. Their tongues wrestle and Cas lets out a short, low chuckle that turns into a moan as Dean grinds his hips against the shorter man's.

They hear the guard coming back but they don't break apart, and there's a moment of pause before retreating footsteps and a distant muffle of 'you'll never believe what's happening back there'.

Dean doesn't get much farther than unbuttoning Cas' white work shirt, now rumpled and dirtied by spilled alcohol, before they're both panting and coming in their pants.

Totally worth the public disturbance notice they'll indubitably get.

\---

They don't get one because the sheriff thinks they're cute together and she doesn't think it's entirely fair to make them pay after they gave a show like that.


	11. Knot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas back is sore so why not rub it for him...and maybe rub a few other things while Dean's at it.

Cas keeps rolling his shoulders and Sam's gone on a food run and Dean thinks _why the fuck not_? Nothing bad could happen, really.

"Okay, that's getting really fucking annoying," Dean says, leaning against the doorframe to the library, coffee mug in one hand, open book in the other.

Cas looks up in confused shock and furrows his brows, tilting his head in that curious way he always does, and Dean smiles a small half smile.

He does a little head nod, jutting his chin out toward Cas, and then starts into the room, setting down the book on the table as he explains, "Why don't you just let me rub your shoulders."

Cas squints for a single, elongated moment in time and then nods once, carefully closing his own book.

Dean tells Cas that he needs to take off the work shirt and when Cas doesn't make a move to do so, only stares at Dean sceptically, Dean lets out an exasperated huff and turns Cas' chair so he's facing him.

He undoes the buttons himself and Cas watches him in speechless surprise. Dean peeks up at him through heavy lashes and undoes the last button, making very sure that his fingers linger in a soft brush at the waist of Cas' work slacks.

Cas shivers and Dean smirks to himself.

He peels the sleeves down Cas's arms and ignores the electricity that buzzes through his hands each time they brush.

He turns Cas' chair back around and delves his thumbs into the knots in Cas' shoulders and neck.

Castiel drops his head with a pleased groan and Dean smirks and continues working into the surprising muscles.

He feels himself gravitating closer and closer to the angel, and at some point, he's so close that he just ends up slipping his arms froward around Cas's chest, sliding his hands over his nipples which earns him a soft gasp and an arched back.

Dean's hands push further down and his mouth works a wet path from behind Cas' ear and along his jaw.

"Please don't stop," Cas whispers and Dean breathes out against his neck. Cas turns and catches Dean's lips in a hesitant kiss, slow and soft, and then more sure. Dean prods at Cas' lips with his tongue as his hand reaches the angel's tented slacks.

Cas' hips buck up and his mouth opens in a moan and Dean takes the opportunity to dip his tongue into their kiss, prompting Cas, encouraging him to play along, and Cas does, curling his tongue around Dean's and licking into his mouth.

Dean chuckles darkly and slips the belt from its loops, sets it aside, unbuttons Cas' slacks, those hips rolling the entire time, and sneaks his hand beneath the waistband of his boxers.

Cas moans loud and unabashed, lips falling from Dean's as he throws his head back, eyebrows raised and mouth hanging open in a silent scream. Dean strokes up and bites down hard on Cas' neck, where his fingers were massaging him just minutes earlier.

He pumps slowly for a few minutes, kissing up Cas' throat, listening to the little sounds the angel keeps making, and then he quickens the pace when Cas' hips start stuttering and his moans start getting louder.

"Come for me," he whispers, lips pressed against Cas' ear, and the angel does, eyebrows knitting together, and jaw locking around a strangled 'Dean!'. "Good angel," he breathes, presses a kiss to the shell of his ear.

"That wasn't necessarily my shoulders," Cas whispers back, hanging his head back against Dean's chest and turning his face into Dean's neck to plant a light kiss there.

"Don't seem like it's buggin' you much," Dean laughs, grip tightening around Cas' chest.

"Mm...I think I like the massages you give," Cas adds and Dean catches his lips between his own, and hums when he pulls back.

"Why's that."

Cas only grins and kisses him again.


	12. Loaf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas once consumed an entire loaf of bread in one day because he liked PB&J so much

With Cas human and his taste for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches growing, Dean is starting to complain about how much they spend just on bread.

Cas only seems to smirk, not even the grace to seem shamed, and Sam just rolls his eyes and shakes his head and mumbles something about 'will you two just kiss and make up already'.

And Dean would gladly kiss his...boyfriend? Partner? Whatever.

If only his mouth weren't stuffed full of PB&J sandwich.

And now Dean's had quite enough and is grabbing Cas' wrist and storming out of the bunker, Sam's arched brows following after them, on a mission for yet _more_  bread.

Because _Cas_...has eaten an _entire_  loaf.

 _In one day_.

How the fuck does that even happen?

They make it to the market and Dean leads Cas by the hand, getting strange looks - not because it's two grown men holding hands, no; because it's two grown men holding hands, and one looks pissed and grumpy and the other looks shocked and bewildered - to the bread aisle, where he pulls Cas up in front of the white bread and gives the former angel a pointed look.

When Cas doesn't make a move in any direction, Dean rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh, sounding rather like a teenager who's had quite enough of whatever's going on.

He takes Cas by the shoulders, looks him dead in the eye, raises his brows, and says fiercely, "Cas, you're eating a lot of bread lately, and it's kind of annoying to be running out and back once every two days, sometimes once every day, just to get more bread. So you need to grab as many loaves as you think you'll need in the next week, and we're gonna buy them, and get the fuck out of here. Okay?"

Cas nods slowly, looking for all the world like a small child getting scolded, and Dean's eyes soften as he tilts his head with a faint half smile.

"'M sorry, Cas. I didn't mean to scare you or nothin'," he whispers, hand sliding up to cup the ex-angel's neck, thumb rubbing patterns in his jaw. "Just kinda annoying having to take the time away from almost every hunt to get more bread..." He trails off, eyes searching Cas's, which have calmed considerably. Then he adds, in a soft, lilting voice, "But I suppose it's worth it for you."

Cas's cheeks paint themselves bright red and his lips tilt up a little as he drops his gaze.

They don't have to go back to the market for a week and a half.


	13. Muscle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas really really enjoys how muscular Dean is

Dean is working on the Impala again - something about the oil needing to be changed and the engine making a clicking sound every few miles.

Cas is surprised, frankly, that it's even held together this long. That car is 58 years old this year. Most cars barely stay shiny for a month, and some of them have engines that break down after a few years of liberal usage.

But, no, this car...this car is special. At least to Dean. And maybe it's grown on Cas a bit. Especially since he's been humanised and he's no other means of transportation besides that car. And, Cas has come to understand, the car really means something to Dean. Dean's not exactly sentimental about things, but this car...this car...it holds things. Inside of it. It holds life. And death. And memories. And Cas can kind of see why his hunter wouldn't want to be rid of it so quickly.

Anyway, Dean's outside of Bobby's house - which they still occasionally stay at, considering it's technically the brothers' now - crunching around the gravel of the yerd in those damn work boots with his shirt off, dirt streaked and oil stained and shiny with sweat, and Cas is standing a couple metres away, simply watching.

Dean is toweling off a wrench of some sort when he turns around and spots Cas, whose eyes go wide with fear that he's been caught in some kind of irredeemable act. But Dean only sets down the wrench and smiles softly, not his usual cocky, all-white-teeth, pink-lipped grin that he generally throws Castiel's way.

Dean jerks his head in a gesture that Cas interprets as 'come on over, I don't bite hard' and so he begins the trek across the silent ground that is weighed down by the blare of a Zeppelin song pounding from the speakers of some radio somewhere.

As he approaches the last half metre, Dean's smile grows, but still not into the auspicious grin he's usually sporting.

"Wanna learn how to change the oil in a car?" He asks teasingly, attempting nonchalance and failing miserably.

Cas lets out a type of scoff-chuckle and takes a seat on the stool beside the table and toolkit.

"Not particularly, Dean," he replies, fiddling with an estranged screw. Dean turns back to the car.

"So what brings you out of the dark and dust of that old...thing," he says without malice, gesturing distractedly at the house as he leans over to look at the engine. "I mean-" he grunts as he twists something, then turns back around and throws what Cas believes is called a 'flathead' onto the table, before he continues. "You didn't just come out here to watch me, did you?" Dean laughs to himself and when Cas doesn't answer, only lets his eyes meander away in shame, Dean's smile _audibly_  falls.

They stand and sit, respectively, in silence for a moment before Dean speaks again, shock carrying thick in his voice.

"Did you?" He asks quietly, and Cas feels the burning anxiety clenching its fist around the pit of his stomach.

"I just enjoy the way your muscles move when you work," Cas whispers, unsure whether Dean can hear him, kind of hoping he can't. "They're amazing and you're so...graceful...in a way."

He can feel Dean's eyes on him, watching the side of his scarlet flushed face, probably judging the shit out of him.

"I..." Dean starts, sounding torn between shock and amusement. He releases a low chuckle, dark, gravelly and Cas feels the goosebumps up and down his arms and chest. He hears the crunch of more gravel as Dean steps closer, once, twice, thrice. And then Dean is standing right beside him, curling a finger under his chin and lifting his face. Dean's incredible army green eyes twitch between Cas' own for a moment and then the corners of Dean's lips turn up. "Not so bad yourself, there, angel."

 _What_?

Cas hopes his furrowed brows convey exactly that.

"Well, it's not like I haven't seen you shirtless, Cas, I mean..." Dean laughs again, higher this time. "You walk around the bunker half naked, like, seventy percent of the time."

Cas just shrinks back a little but Dean's hand spreads across his jaw and brings his face back up, tilting his own head, lips closer than they were before.

"Think if our muscles touched it would start another apocalypse?" He asks in a soft voice, lips still lifted in a grin he's trying with all his might to conceal.

Cas closes the space, taking the chance while he finally has it, and slides his lips between Dean's, using the admittedly, embarrassingly little experience he has with kissing to his advantage.

Dean's hand stays on Cas' jaw, fingers splayed, pinky hooked behind his ear, thumb continuing its circular path near their attached lips, and his other arm comes up to rest on Cas' shoulder and bend around his neck and he twists his fingers in Cas' hair to pull him closer.

Dean breaks away first and Cas would never admit to it but he nearly whines.

"Only one way to find out, right?" Dean whispers, words buzzing through Cas's skull and settling like a thick blanket across his brain, making him shiver despite the warmth.

The fact that they're outside doesn't stop them, mostly because Bobby's house is in the middle of nowhere, but neither does Sam's words of utter disgust from behind a second story window and the slamming door they hear even through the walls of the house.

And not much work gets done for a while.


	14. Neck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean really really enjoys kissing Cas' neck

He hums again, Cas' skin warm against his wet lips, and Cas's moan vibrates through his face.

Dean heightens the pressure he's using in the hand that's currently wrapped around Cas' swollen cock, heavy with pending orgasm under his fingers, and Cas takes in a sharp breath and bucks up into the heat.

"Fuck," he gasps, white-knuckling as his fingers clutch the bedsheets. "Fuck. Dean, please-oh shit!"

Dean clamps his teeth down around a hickey from earlier that day and smiles to himself, proud that he can make his angel so excited.

His lips continue their own path from Cas' collarbone, up his neck, nipping soft behind his ear, making Cas' hips stutter, and then across his jaw, nibbling carefully at just the edge. He leaves just the faintest of kisses against Castiel's parted lips, and then ducks back down beneath his chin to leave a trail of spit after his open-mouthed kisses down the centre of the angel's throat.

Cas keeps making little noises - and big ones - and Dean just keeps pumping his hand, tight enough for Cas to keep moaning, but just loose enough that he can't come yet.

No, Dean wants to make this last. And he knows it's torture for Cas, which isn't actually his goal, but Cas makes these delicious sounds when Dean kisses his neck and his neck is just really nice in general and Dean happens to like kissing him...on the neck mostly. And his lips. But also, in general. You know, any kiss he can fit into whatever they're doing at the moment, whether it be a short but sweet make out in the front seat of the Impala after Sam gets out, or a quick peck on the cheek, or just the faintest of brushes of lips against fingertips.

But right now, Sam is gone, probably somewhere with Gabe, and all they have is time, and Dean plans to take as much advantage of it as is humanly possible.

"Fuck! Please! Dean..." Cas pants and his grip on Dean's hair tightens drastically. "Dean, please..."

"'Please' what, angel," Dean murmurs distractedly against sweat slick skin, preoccupied with his mouth latched on to the other side of Cas' neck now.

"Let me come," he breathes quickly, hips arching and fucking involuntarily into Dean's hand.

"Hmmm," he hums and tightens his grasp again, pumping faster. "Maybe."

Cas releases a strangled moan, better than any woman's fake one in any porn anywhere, ever, and Dean grins, satisfied enough for now with the work he's done on Cas' neck, marking him up, branding him as his and only his for the entire world to see, hickeys - new and old alike - bite marks like little pink crescent moons denting his skin, trails of glimmering saliva and red splotches where Cas' neck has filled in with the blush from his face.

Dean puts on full pressure, finally, and Cas' mouth falls open in one long, silent, continuous moan.

What little noise does manage to escape is a loud 'fuck, Dean!' when Cas comes, his hips bucking and grinding aimlessly as the white ropes spurt up onto his stomach and Dean's hand.

And Dean's lips are already working their slow way across Cas' neck again before either of them can come down from that high.


	15. Outrage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fight is turning into something Dean didn't expect.

"Look, I don't really understand why you care so much, Cas," Dean replies, still not meeting the fuming angel's eyes as he throws the book down onto the table in the library of the bunker. "I can handle myself, and a goddamn vamp sure as hell ain't gonna be the death of Dean Winchester. Nah, that's weak, I'm goin' out with a fuckin' bang."

"Dean, what _I_  don't understand is why _you don't_ care," Cas retorts following his movements across the table. "It seems you have _no regard_...for your _own life_. Doesn't that make you just a little sad? To know that you apparently don't care whether you die?"

"What's the _point_!" Dean explodes finally, head whipping up to meet Cas' glare. "Huh, Cas?! Why the _fuck_ -" he slams another book down to emphasise "-should I fucking care?! Nobody else _fucking_  does, not about me, at least." 

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cas says, utterly shocked at Dean's apparent lack of the ability to process the fact that people love him.

Dean breathes for a second, hunched over, arms holding himself up as he leans against the table. And then he straightens and starts cleaning up the books again, speaking calmly.

"I just...I can't believe that anyone cares about me. Not like that. I ain't worth that," he shoves a wood bound book into its place on the shelf. "So why would you care, Cas? I don't...think you really do, so what's the _real_  problem here?"

Cas stares at him, eyes wide with bafflement, jaw dropped in shock. What the _fuck_.

" _YOU COULD'VE FUCKING DIED_!" He screams, and Dean looks up at him in surprise. Cas doesn't blame him. It's not like Dean has ever heard him shout like this...in this context. "Doesn't that fucking matter to you? _At all_?"

Dean's face quickly falls from surprise to darkness, though, and he's turning away from Cas, nearing the end of the second table and Cas starts walking, following him.

Dean stops toward the end, hand brushing lightly over a book, and then he grabs it without warning for Cas to heed and Dean chucks it against the wall with such force it leaves a dent.

He whirls on Cas, staring him down across the table.

"NO ONE ACTUALLY _CARES_ , CAS--"

"Oh, really? What about Sam? Dean, what about _me_?"

Dean searches his face for a long time before whispering, "You can't actually expect me to believe that. I mean, Sam? Okay, whatever, I can accept that..." Long pause. And then: "But what the _hell_ gives you the right...Cas...to pretend that you _FUCKING CARE_ \--"

"Dean, you cannot just keep trying to throw your life away-" he rounds the table end and walks straight up into Dean's space, knowing just how uncomfortable it makes the hunter. "-because of some twisted idea that you are not _loved_."

"What the fuck makes you think you can just--"

" _I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU, YOU FUCKING IDIOT_!"

Dean stares blankly at him, face unreadable, for the longest of seconds and then he blinks and drops down into the nearest chair, bringing his arms up to the armrests and leaning back.

He's not looking up, not looking at anything but Cas's feet, and probably through them, lips parted, no sound escaping.

Cas waits two minutes, three, four, and then the anxiety gets to him and he moves forward and grapples Dean's face in his hands, trying to get a look at his eyes, make sure he's not traumatised or anything.

"Dean," he whispers and when Dean still doesn't answer he repeats it. "Dean? Dean!"

Dean's hand abruptly comes up wraps around Cas' tie. He's yanked in by the blue fabric and then...Dean's lips are locked on his and he's gasping and Dean's free hand is gripping the back of his neck and he's melting into Dean like fucking honey on toast and it's the most amazing thing that's happened in years or maybe ever and Cas can't tell which way is up or down or left or right because everything right now is DeanDeanDean and, Christ, Dean's tongue is pushing its way into his mouth and he curls his own around Dean's because that's how it happened with Meg and dear lord this is so much better than the one with Meg, _fuck_.

"I'm sorry," Dean murmurs, rasp and gravel, as he pulls away, only a millimetre, only so their mouths aren't smushed together and sliding and searching and desperate.

"For what you just did or for nearly getting yourself killed," Cas whispers back and Dean's lips brush his lightly before he's even finished talking.

"Both," Dean replies, so soft and broken and Cas shakes his head solemnly.

"Don't be sorry for that first part," the angel smiles a bit. "That part was nice. But I strongly disagree with you not caring about your own death...or at least not caring that you die, specifically. Only how you die. Which I'll give you credit for caring about."

Dean smiles - tries to - and kisses Cas again, more gently this time.

"And for the record," he mumbles, Cas' jaw in his palm, "I really didn't know you cared that much...thank you--"

"I will smite the shit out of you if you ever again try to tell me no one cares about you," Cas says.

But Dean just smiles and nods and connects their lips again.

Okay, maybe getting Dean mad isn't such an awful thing after all.


	16. Plaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas enjoys wearing Dean's flannels because they're comfy and they smell like him

"Cas! Give me back my fucking shirt--"

"Why should I? Aren't you the notorious Dean Winchester?" He laughs and dodges Dean's reaching hand by running around the table and using Sam sitting in the chair as a shield, hands on the back of the frame, smile gummy and bright.

"What the fuck does me being Dean--"

"I think he means you wear a lot a plaid, Dean," Sam says calmly, flipping a page in the heavy tome he'd picked up about an hour earlier.

Dean glares at his younger brother, who sips his coffee nonchalantly and scans the page for important words.

"Yeah? Well...so do you, you fucking moose," Dean retorts, not really exactly sure what to say to that because it's kind of true.

The older hunter switches his glare back to Cas who bites his lip and then takes off toward the hallway, sprinting at an inhuman speed to one of the rooms.

Dean runs after him, muttering 'Christ, you're not even an angel anymore, how do you do this' and catches up outside of his own room, where he sees Cas duck in.

He races in after him and tackles Cas to the bed, straddling his hips and holding his wrists above his head with both hands. He leans down, squints, and huffs when Cas only chuckles.

"You're mean to me," Dean says and places a tiny kiss on the tip of Cas' nose.

"Mhm," the former angel hums, lifting his chin slightly so he can press their lips together, quick and soft. He bites his lip again and Dean can tell he's suppressing a shit-eating grin. "All part of the plan."

"Whose plan?"

"Well, not who you're thinking of," he pauses. Kisses Dean again.

Dean doesn't actually mind that the ex-angel stole his shirt - he knows how much comfort Cas takes in the pliant fabric of his favourite flannel and in the smell of the hunter on it. But sometimes it's fun to act like children every once in a while. Especially when it usually ends in kisses or a tickle match.

"You know, if you want your stupid shirt back so badly..." Cas leans up as much as he can with Dean holding him down by the arms and pushes his mouth right up against the older brother's ear and whispers, husky and low, "you could just take it off yourself."

Dean hums in agreement and releases his grip on Cas' wrists only to slide his hands up into Cas's and lace their fingers together.

Yeah, kissing is awesome.

\---

Sam walks in a few minutes later, saying 'hey, I think I fou-oh my god, seriously, guys? This is, like, fifth time, close the fucking door' before promptly slamming it shut himself and probably leaving to get a drink and erase his half naked brother and almost completely naked angel friend from his mind.


	17. Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam calls Dean a closet queen and Dean storms off but Cas finds him and makes him feel better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I guess I'm still not good at making the stories shorter I'm sorry

They're sitting at the table in the library, newspaper and laptop and coffees in hands and on tables respectively, when Cas walks in, squinty, grumpy, and shirtless, a ratty old pair of Dean's green sweats hanging loose from his hips.

Sam looks up and immediately makes a face that exhibits his 'leave me alone' dimples before turning back to his laptop and shaking his head.

Dean only looks up and raises his eyebrows, smirking fondly at the angel.

So maybe he likes Cas...a _smidgeon_  more than he lets on.

"What is a 'closet queen'?" He asks in that low gravel that Dean entirely can't handle, especially mixed with that unbelievably messed up bed head and the fact that Cas is shirtless and incredibly muscular.

"Basically Dean," Sam says without amusement, raising his brows and shrugging, bored pointedness in his eyes.

Dean's head whips up and his jaw drops as he stares at the younger man, utterly gobsmacked and completely flustered. He knew Sam knew - it's not as if Sam hasn't walked in on him with another guy. But he didn't exactly want Cas to know and Dean just prays that Cas is still as clueless as he was when he was an angel.

To his relief, Cas only squints further at Sam and then at Dean and then at Sam again.

"I don't understand. He is not wearing a crown and he is not inside of a closet."

"Oh, he's in a closet, alright," Sam muses, amusement finally marring his smirk. "The crown is only visible if you look hard enough."

And, as if squinting can help him see better, Cas squints even harder and Dean doesn't quite understand how that's possible. He approaches slowly, tilting his head, sidling around Dean and pushing his face in uncomfortably close.

"I...I still don't see it, Sam. Are you sure?"

Sam seals his lips as he taps at the keyboard and clicks at the pad.

"Maybe if you two go to Dean's room and look there--"

"Fuck you!" Dean bursts, shoving his chair back and stomping out of the room.

He slams his door shut and rolls onto his bed, splaying out and staring at the ceiling. He knows he's acting childish, but who the fuck gave Sam the right to out him like that? Even if Cas doesn't understand what he means, it's inconsiderate of his stupid brother to talk about it so openly.

He lays there for five minutes and then there's a knock on his door.

"Go away, Sam," he says loudly enough for what he assumes is his brother to hear. "I'll apologise later."

"It's me," Cas' rough husk announces and Dean furrows his brows and lifts his head as Cas enters.

He stares defiantly, caged and prepared for the worst, but all Cas does is watch him from the doorway.

"What."

"Sam says that being in the closet means you haven't come out to someone as homosexual," Cas replies quietly and Dean drops his head again.

"Not gay, Cas."

"But Sam--"

"Sam's wrong. And stupid. I'm bi, okay?" He whispers that last part and when he doesn't get a response, he lifts his head once more to stare at Cas expectantly. "Well? Now you know. Go away or yell at me or...something..."

"Sam also says you have a..." He tilts his head and squints before continuing. "'Huge gay crush' on me." Dean swallows hard. It's silent for a moment, too silent, something akin to being uncomfortable in a church full of praying people. Then: "I got confused because I thought you preferred the female form and asked Sam if you would enjoy it more if I chose a different vessel...but Sam told me you said you like the structure of this vessel more than any woman."

"Cas--"

"I told him I hadn't realised--"

"Cas, come on--"

"--and I would have kissed you a lot sooner if I had known."

"Cas-" Dean cuts himself off, words sinking in, eyes widening with dawning realisation. "What did you just say."

"May I kiss you?" He whispers, sheepish and ducking his head, cheeks bright pink.

Dean stares a second longer before pushing up off the bed, sliding to a stand, and walking over to Cas. He lifts his hand to the former angel's cheek, walks them backward until Cas' back hits the wall, and leans down.

Their lips brush only briefly, hesitant, unsure, and then again, more solid this time, still tentative.

But as they continue to slide together, Dean gets more bold; takes in a deep breath and nips at Cas' lip, which makes the shorter man gasp lightly. Dean takes the chance to curl his tongue into Cas' mouth and the ex-angel makes a low, happy sound, which Dean swallows easily.

He pulls away a moment later and Cas whines - actually whines - and chases after his lips.

"Well, aren't you eager," he laughs and allows one more short kiss before separating again, letting their foreheads hang together. "Hope Jimmy's okay with this--"

"Jimmy's not here...he's..." Cas pauses and presses out a breath. Dean pulls back, brows furrowed. Cas drops his gaze, mumbling, "He hasn't been here since I lost my Grace. When an angel goes human, they take over the vessel completely--"

"So where is he?" Dean demands. Not angry, just confused. Slightly panicked.

"Heaven," he answers simply, training his eyes on Dean again.

"Well...then, let's not talk about him, huh," Dean replies, moving to close the gap once more.

Cas is shirtless...in his room...asking to be kissed. Might as well take advantage.

And, oh, how he takes advantage.

Okay, so he definitely likes Cas a lot more than he lets on.


	18. Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean loves his 80's rock but he'll gladly dance to classical music when he's drunk and Cas is there

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was kind of a bitch with the end tbh. So sorry if you've read Twist and Shout; you may sob at the end of this one oops.

He turns on the radio, swaying, not hitting the right button the first or second time. When he finally gets it to start up, it's statick for a second and then Rihanna's Please Don't Stop the Music blares and pounds from the speakers and he smiles wide and starts dancing, bottle of straight vodka in his right hand.

Another bottle, which was already three quarters of the way gone when he found it, lies empty and discarded in the corner where he dropped it as he reached for the second bottle, which is now half empty.

A knock on the open door startles him and he turns around to see Cas standing in the doorway, shirtless and half asleep and confused.

_Gotta get my body movin', shake the stress away. I wasn't lookin' for nobody when you looked my way._

"What are you doing?" Cas rasps, rubbing an eye with his fist. Dean smiles warmly at him and opens his arms.

"Come dance with me!" He shouts over the music, only now realising how loud it is.

_Who knew you'd be up in here lookin' like you do?_

"Why?" Cas pauses and examines Dean more closely, and Dean feels his cheeks flush scarlet. "Are you drunk?"

"Maybe a little..." Dean admits bashfully, biting his lip. "Okay, a lot...I'm sorry...I know I said I wouldn't...just...stay? Please?"

He tries to convey to Cas how much he really needs him here right now, eyes watering, staring into Cas' deep and intense.

_I must say your aura is incredible. If you don't have to go, then don't._

"Okay," Cas says so quietly, it's a miracle Dean can hear it over the blare of music.

He twists back to the radio and turns the volume down considerably. When he looks back, Cas is standing closer than he was, and Dean's heart shoots up to his throat.

"Do you still wish to dance?" Cas asks, hope dripping from his voice like lava from a volcano about to blow. Dean gulps and nods.

"Maybe a different song, though, huh?"

He turns the dial three times to the left and suddenly a beautiful symphony of harmonic piano notes is pouring from the speakers. He may be a classic rock guy, but he can dig classical romance too, so he recognises it immediately.

Nocturne by Ignacy Jan Paderewski. Mum used to listen to it so much, it just kind of stuck, especially for Sam, who Dean sometimes comes home to see sitting back in one of the recliners, eyes closed, this exact song echoing through the library and against the smile on Sam's lips.

Yeah, Dean's just fine with this.

He sets down the alcohol beside the radio, turns around, taking Cas' hand in his own and lifting it, then sliding his other arm around Cas' waist. Cas slips his own arm around Dean's neck as their fingers lock together, and they hold eachother's gaze.

"You know," Dean mumbles, tightening his grasp around Cas' middle before continuing. "This could be good practise for the wedding. Gabriel might throw a princess fit if you can't dance--"

"He can eat shit, for all I care," Cas whispers, no malignance in his tone, simply calm. "He's able to dance perfectly fine and so is Sam, so they can make up for my lack of knowledge about dancing with their own stupid dancing."

Dean's eyes twitch between Cas' as a smile grows on his lips. He nods and continues to circle, side stepping and back stepping, surprisingly nimble for how incoherent he is.

After several minutes of silence, the only sound being Dean humming along softly and then the song switching to Canon in D by Pachelbel, Cas takes a breath in and speaks again.

"I think you should sing more often...when you're not drunk," he whispers, the corners of his lips lifting in a tiny smile.

"Well, maybe for you...definitely not for anyone else, though," Dean replies, soft and quiet, thumb rubbing circles in Cas' back.

"I think I'm okay with that," Cas answers, even softer than Dean. "I don't think I want to share you with anyone."

Dean's lips part, and he realises Cas has been slowly leaning up and suddenly their faces are very, very close together and dear lord does he want to kiss that damn angel-gone-human.

"Don't think..." He starts, trying to keep his concentration with Cas so close. "I would... _want_...to be shared." His lips are brushing Cas's as he speaks and then they're pressed together and whatever else he wanted to say falls down Cas' throat.

Yeah...he can dig classical.


	19. Spider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean really hates spiders but Cas teaches him there's nothing to be afraid of

"No way," Dean says, shaking his head furiously like a child about to throw a fit. "No fucking way, Sam. I want it out."

"Dude, fucking relax--"

"It's a fucking spider Sam!"

"Exactly, it's _just a spider_. There is literally no way it can hurt you. Poisonous spiders can't even survive this far north, okay?"

"Get it out," he persists, holding his ground standing on top of the chair with his arms crossed.

"My God, Dean! You've killed fucking demons and-and angels...and you're scared of a tiny spider?" Sam pulls his brows in and up and holding out his hands, palms upturned. Dean only shrugs and Sam lets out a huff. "You look like a cranky two year old; at least get down from there."

"He's right, Dean. Spiders are gentle animals," Cas says, walking over to the window sill where the spider is dancing and twirling, trying to find a way out. "They are not creatures of malevolence unless provoked. She won't hurt you. All she wants is to find her way back to her eggs. Probably somewhere outside."

Dean pauses, squinting at Cas sceptically, and then he nods and steps off the chair, and Sam throws his hands in the air.

"Christ. Okay, fine. Whatever. I'm gonna go to the bar," he whips on his jacket and as he storms out the door, Dean thinks he hears the younger one mumble 'be back when you two are done being gay together'.

The door slams shut but Cas doesn't even wince, only smiles softly down at the little arachnid tapping around on the wood.

"Dean," he says quietly, and Dean starts toward his angel when he sees the tiny lift of his lips and the expectant but patient eyes. When he reaches about a half a metre from the sill he falters. "It's okay. She won't hurt you. She says she's looking for her babies."

"You can talk to animals?"

Cas nods faintly, letting the thumb nail sized spider crawl up onto his hand. He watches her rest in the centre of his palm and then turns to Dean, who still regards the spider with hesitance.

"Insects and sea creatures mostly. They speak on the same frequency as angels do...well, not the same-" he pauses and lifts Dean's hand and the hunter winces but doesn't coil away like he wants to. "-frequency, necessarily. Just one of the frequencies that angels can reach."

Cas holds his hand in front of Dean's.

"Cas I don't--"

"Sshh, just let her do what she finds fit," he looks up through his lashes and adds, "I promise she won't hurt you."

Dean seals his lips as the spider does its little leg dance over Cas' fingers and then his own and settles in his palm.

"See? She likes you," Cas grins down at the tiny thing and Dean would swear on his life that the spider lifts a little leg and waves at the angel. "Let's go put her outside."

Dean nods and walks carefully, palm held up and away from his body, still tentative about having a spider in his hand.

Cas opens the motel door and Dean crouches and slants his hand against the ground. The spider crawls gingerly off onto the concrete and scampers away to find her web.

"She says thank you," Cas whispers, twining his fingers with Dean's.

Dean only rolls his eyes and tugs his angel closer, wrapping his arms around Cas' chest as the shorter man's back presses into his own torso. He rests his chin on Cas' shoulder and watches the spider run along back home.

Okay, so spiders aren't all that terrible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm just not getting hits anymore (at least not as much as I used to) and I'm not?? Entirely sure what's happening so ??? Idk just getting a little discouraged from writing anymore because I feel not good enough ???


	20. Tongue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas's tongue is on that sucker instead of his dick. But not for long.

They're in the file room and Dean's pants are getting tight and that stupid fucking angel-turned-human found a cherry sucker at the last gas station and goddamnit all if that little beast can't turn him on with his tongue on that candy.

Cas is leaning against the filing shelf, left shoulder to the files, facing Dean with his eyes down on an open file. And his tongue keeps shooting out to lick at the sucker and he keeps dipping it into his mouth, lips stretching over it and fuck.

Dean watches him without realising how long he's been staring, watches Cas's lips stretch again as he pulls the sucker out, more slowly than usual. Dean clears his throat and adjusts the way he's leaning back against the shelves.

When he looks back, Cas's lips turn up into a slight smile and Dean's eyes go wide. He switches his frightened gaze to Cas' own eyes and the ex-angel peeks up through heavy lashes and runs his tongue slowly up the underside of the sucker.

His lips part when he pulls it away and he whispers, husky and low and dripping like honey, "See something you like, Dean?"

"Christ," Dean growls, throwing down the archived files and pushing up from his spot. He turns in front Cas, smacks the files from his hand, grabs the sucker and throws it across the room, and shoves Cas back against the shelves.

Cas lets out a sharp breath at the force but he's smirking up at the hunter so it probably didn't hurt all that badly.

Dean fists the collar of that stupid white work shirt in his hand and pulls himself closer as Cas' hands come up to his shoulders. One tangles in Dean's hair and the other encourages him with little tugs at the back of his neck.

"You little shit," Dean growls, lips brushing Cas', which are already parted and puffing out warm air as his hips grind against Dean's.

"You - ah! - you love me," Cas replies, as Dean presses their pounding cocks together.

"Damn right," he breathes before smashing their lips together, hot and wet and sloppy and desperate. They slide together, a sweaty, breathy mess of want and need and gasping and 'fuck'.

Cas eventually manages to slide down against the shelf and rip Dean's jeans off without much trouble. He takes his time, though, getting his mouth on Dean's leaking cock, breathing up the shaft and just barely darting his tongue out to swipe at the slit.

Dean's knees buckle and he leans forward, bracing himself against the shelf with both arms and hanging his head between his shoulders.

Cas fits his mouth over the head of his cock and moves slowly down over the aching member, getting his lips almost to the base and letting his throat flutter around the tip and Dean thrusts his hips forward involuntarily.

One hand drops to the back of Cas' head and tangles in his hair as he continues this motion and a few minutes and Cas' name falling roughly from Dean's lips later, Cas is swallowing Dean's come and Dean is dropping down in front of him.

He pushes Cas back against the shelf again and crawls on top of him, straddling the ex-angel's splayed legs. His jeans are still undone and his dick is still hanging out and swelling up again already. It's almost painful.

Almost.

"God, I do love you. So much," Dean whispers, lips pushed tight against Cas's ear as his hand makes its venturing way down from his shoulder, across his chest, over his stomach, and then comes to rest against Cas's erection, cupping it and rubbing up softly.

Cas' hips press up into the repeated motion and his mouth falls open, head falling back, and it seems to Dean that all the new human can do is nod.

He lifts himself to undo that damn belt and slide it slowly from the loops, making sure Cas feels the pressure of it every time it passes through one, and then throws it over his shoulder haphazardly. He opens the button with one hand, kissing and nipping at Cas' neck all the time, before dipping his hand beneath both the slacks and the boxers, and wrapping it firmly around the well endowed former angel underneath him.

Dean uses his free hand to slide a finger under the waistband of the boxers and slip them down for easier access. He drops his hips back down and presses their cocks together, hot and sticky and slightly wet from Cas' spit, and gets his hand around both of them.

Castiel is making the sweetest sounds, panting moans and little 'ah!' noises and Dean grins as he pulls his hand up over both of them.

The ex-angel's head falls all the way back against the shelf, and Dean takes the chance to appreciate the stubbled column of his neck before nipping softly at his exposed Adam's apple. Cas' nails digging into his shoulders is a biting pain in the background and Dean loves it.

"Fuck!" Cas gasps, clutching at Dean's t-shirt, and he's almost entirely certain Cas may rip the material, but then he's coming, hips stuttering under Dean's grip and just the sight of his wingless angel - open-mouthed, swollen-lipped, pink-cheeked, eyes half-lidded - is enough to make him bite down on Cas' collarbone - hard - and come again, all over that nice white workshirt - even harder.

They sit there in relative silence, heavy breathing and tiny, languid kisses, Dean's hand cupping Cas' jaw, foreheads hanging together.

And then:

"I love you too, though," Cas whispers and Dean doesn't open his eyes as the smile slides up over his lips.

\---

Sam doesn't ask why they barely got any work done.


	21. Ugly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas won't let Dean wash him off after the fall because Cas is self conscious about his wounds

They find him passed out in an empty field, face down and limbs sprawled. Dean lifts him easily, an arm under his knees and another under his upper back. The angel's head hangs from his neck as Dean carries him so the hunter adjusts him in a way that his head lolls against his collarbone, ear to his shoulder.

They make their way to the bunker and Cas wakes in the Impala as Sam manoeuvres them down the last road. The first sound to fall from his lips as Dean holds him close, clutching him tight to his chest, is a strangled sob, and when Dean looks down, he finds the angel's face contorting in gut-wrenching pain, and he lets Cas's hand claw at his t-shirt because God knows he needs to hold on to something.

When they make it inside, Dean carries Cas, whose head rests against his chest again and whose hand stills clutches his shirt, to the bathroom, telling Sam to make some tea and find some extra blankets. Cas' face is slack, exhausted, eyes closed again. Dean sets Cas down on toilet seat and lets him hang onto the hunter as he removes the angel's trenchcoat and loosens the tie.

He gets the jacket and belt and shoes and slacks off, but when he starts unbuttoning the work shirt, Cas gasps and his hand shoots up and clamps around Dean's wrist. Dean stares for a second and then looks up at the angel in surprise, lips parting, eyebrows sinking down.

Cas doesn't look at him, only lets his lip wobble before another sob escapes his throat and he drops his head. Dean raises his other hand to Cas' cheek, thumb skimming over his cheekbone, and the hunter lifts the angel's face. Cas finally meets his gaze with pleading eyes and Dean shakes his head almost imperceptibly, and leans up, catching Cas' lips in a soft kiss, knowing it won't fixing anything and hoping it will anyway.

"I need you to let me clean you off, okay, Cas?" He whispers, faint and broken, thumb brushing over his cheekbone still. Cas swallows but nods, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Dean slides the shirt off and helps Cas into the running water of the tub. He tests the heat and turns it up, then strips down to his pants and sits behind Cas, pretzeling his legs and pulling Cas into his lap.

He stares at the twisted, mangled, open gashes of dark bloody red where the angel's wings once were, raised at the sides and awful and disrupting the back he once knew. Dean leans in and kisses the blank space of skin between them, then hangs his forehead against the knob at the top of Cas' back.

"I still love you," he murmurs, arms slipping around the angel's waist and pulling him flush against his chest. His chin hooks on Cas' shoulder and he holds his partner close, allowing him to curl up in his lap. The crying starts again and sobs wrack both their bodies and there's tears and water and blood and scars and dirt and Dean lets himself cry too.

Sam pads in silently and sets the towels on the loo, eyes down, red and puffy, and hair disheveled. He peeks up at Dean as Cas sobs, and Dean looks at him through watery eyes, not sure what he's trying to communicate anymore. Sam only looks down again, shuts off the water, and leaves, closing the door softly behind him.

Dean takes one of the washcloths that Sam left and wets it, pouring soap on it and touching it lightly to Cas' back, making sure not to hurt him.

He makes especially sure that his angel is completely dirt-free, then grabs the needle and string Sam set down beside the towels, sews the torn skin together as best he can, frowning each time the angel winces, before draining the tub and, without getting out, grabbing another towel and wrappping it around Cas, drying him off very carefully.

The hunter turns him so Cas' legs are draped over his knee and his torso is curled into his arms and his head rests against Dean's shoulder, tucked under his chin.

"I'll be your wings now," he whispers, pressing his lips to Cas' forehead pulling him closer, and Cas looks about all of four years old, curled up and sobbing and wrapped tightly in the towel and Dean's arms. Dean cries too, and his voice cracks with it when he speaks again. "I still love you."

Cas lets out the most pained sob yet, shaking the entire tub, and Dean holds him impossibly closer.

"I'm so sorry, Cas," he murmurs. "So sorry."

Cas cries broken and ugly and terrible and fallen. And still so beautiful. Still so strong.

Still Dean's angel.


	22. Vintage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas likes sex in the Impala

Being human isn't exactly Cas's favourite thing. He hates that he has to actually take showers, shave, dress himself...go to the loo. That one's the worst.

There are things he enjoys about it though. Eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with coffee in the morning. Curling up next to Dean at night, warm and comfy and peaceful. Going outside to the field of daisies growing across the street from the bunker and falling into the flowers and just lying there with the sun on his face and Dean's hand in his. Being able to see the stars as separate points of beauty in the deep, grape wine night sky instead of ginormous clumps of light all swarming together and messing with his depth perception.

Sex with Dean. That's the best part, out of everything. It's so much better than it was before. It's not as if he couldn't feel anything before, there's just more of a connection now. And he understands it now. It's not just a pleasure thing, something that allows release. When Dean looks up at him with hooded eyes as his cock slides into him, Cas feels a swell of love and joy and beauty and grace and he leans down and kisses Dean, slow and sweet in spite of whatever pace they're going.

And, by far, his favourite place to have sex is in the Impala. It's not exactly comfortable but that means they have an excuse to press themselves together the closest they can - as if they need one.

So when he finds Dean working on the trunk of her outside the garage of the bunker and hands him a beer and Dean only grabs his wrist with an oil stained hand before taking the beer with the other hand, setting it down on the stool, then shoving Cas through the open door and into the backseat, Cas' cock definitely gives a more than interested twitch.

"Dean, don't you have to work on th--"

"Right now, I'd rather work on you, angel," he pants, hips rolling, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Cas' neck. "So why don't you shut up about the car and let me fuck you into the leather."

Cas raises his eyebrows slightly and shudders, letting out a breathy laugh as Dean latches onto his neck and slips his hand beneath the waistband of Cas' boxer briefs to cup his growing erection.

"Fuck," he whines, rolls up into the warmth of Dean's hand.

Dean releases a low chuckle that turns into a moan when Cas squeezes his ass.

His hunter pulls away and trains his incredible leafy green eyes on him, faint smile lifting his lips as he catches his breath, and Cas feels so much wonder and awe and love in that one moment.

And he thinks, hell yeah, this is definitely his favourite.


	23. Whisper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas likes it when Dean whispers things to him in the dead of night

Cas can't really explain why he likes sneaking into Dean's room at night and curling up under his willing arms.

Maybe it's because when he cracks the door open, Dean stirs and looks up at him with sleep heavy eyes and smiles softly and opens his arms, encouraging Cas to pad in and slip under the covers with him

Maybe it's because of the seemingly endless regeneration of heat that Dean radiates in waves, especially on cold nights when Cas can't get warm enough by himself, his body still adjusting to being a human.

Or maybe it's because of the things Dean whispers to him in the dead of the dark, as the stars hang themselves up like little crystal freckles in the sky to match the ones on Dean's cheeks and the moon dangles precariously over the tree lines, ethereal sodium in the reflection of the sun.

And the world keeps spinning, and the grass keeps swaying, and the birds keep sleeping, and the flowers keep rustling, and Dean pulls him close and rests his head on Cas's and whispers the most soothing nothings he can think of, and Cas isn't sure, but he thinks this is what they call love.

Because Dean just holds him there, lips against his ear and breathes out things like ' _think about how gorgeous it would be in here if I could get a skylight. The sun in the late morning and the moon right now. It'd be almost half as beautiful as you_ ' and ' _you're always so cold but that's okay because that means I get to hold you like this_ ' and ' _your eyes remind me of the galaxy_ '.

And tonight, though Cas is bundled up in Deans effervescent, unyielding warmth, he can't find it in him to sleep.

Because tonight, Dean, as he was about to slide into his own sleep, whispered something to Cas that's never even crossed his mind. Something that's never even touched the surface of his brain and now it's out there and Dean was nearly asleep and nobody just lies when they're that out of it.

It was something Cas can't get out of his head and he wonders if Dean will remember it in the morning and he hopes the hunter does.

Because the words that slipped from Dean Winchester's lips were 'I love you'.

Cas never wants to sleep in his own bed again.


	24. Xylitol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas likes to use a lot of sweetener in his coffee

Dean likes his coffee black. Which Sam inexplicably finds disgusting. The younger Winchester prefers something called a 'latte' but none of that really matters to Cas. All he knows is that he likes to put sweetener in his coffee.

Not too much, just enough to rid it of the bitter taste and dryness of coffee bean.

Dean teases him about it. But that's all part of the fun.

Another part of the fun is when Dean walks up behind him as Cas sits in a chair with newspaper in one hand and coffee in the other and the hunter leans over and kisses him softly.

And then when he pulls away and whispers 'you taste sweet' and Cas grins wide and unabashed. And then Dean bites his lips to suppress that damn beautiful smile as he folds his arms around Cas' chest.

And Cas thinks he's never going to stop putting sweetener in his coffee if this is how it's going to be for the rest of his life.


	25. Yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas finds a giant field of yellow daisies and weaves three flower crowns, one for himself, one for Sam, and one for Dean (and he makes Dean's special)

Yellow daisies have always seemed a miracle to Castiel. A beautiful thing that his father was somehow able conjure up. And as he sits in the field of shimmering pulchritude he decides he wants to share it with the ones he loves most.

He picks a bundle and begins weaving a crown, one for himself, and the next one for Sam.

And then one for Dean.

This one he puts the most effort into.

Dean is...Dean is special to him. And he deserves to understand that.

So he takes more time on this one, adding more flowers, using some of what little grace he has left to make it the most beautiful crown he's ever seen, gold and deep green to match Dean's eyes and he even adds the sparkle that he sees when Dean smiles at him.

He grins down at his own little creation, fits his crown over his head, and strolls back to the bunker, each crown in hand.

He finds Sam first, and he smiles up at the 1,9 metre tall mass of joy and confidence and puppy-like excitement and hands him the crown.

Sam smiles at it and looks up at Cas, then pulls him into a tight hug.

"Thanks, Cas," he says as lifts it to his head, circling it and letting it scrape his hair out of place. He gestures to the other one, resting gingerly in Cas's palms. "That one for Dean?"

Cas blushes, ducking his head, and nods, and Sam just claps him on the shoulder.

"He's in the garage," he whispers before turning back to his stack of books.

When Cas gets there, he stalls in the doorway, leaning against the frame and watching Dean as he shines one of the red cars, a classic from the 50's that he seems to be more involved with than the others.

"Well?" Dean says suddenly without turning around, making Cas jump. "You gonna come in or just stand there like a dumbass?"

The peaks of Castiel's cheeks fade to light pink and he smiles fondly up at his hunter.

"You looked busy," he replies from the doorway, loudly enough for Dean to hear. He can't see Dean's face but he can tell by the swell of his cheek that he's smiling.

He finally turns, wiping his hands off with a dirtied rag, and leans back against the car's hood as he watches Cas with soft eyes.

"Never too busy for you," he whispers and Cas's lips part. He treks up the stares and into the actual garage and toward Dean, and when he reaches the human, Dean sets down the rag and reaches for Cas.

Cas steps forward once more and Dean slips his hand around Cas's waist beneath the trench coat and pulls him in.

His other hand comes up to cup Castiel's jaw and Dean pulls him even closer.

"Always have time for you, baby," Dean whispers, lips brushing Cas', and then he presses them to Cas's softly.

Their lips slide together easily and Cas smiles into it.

Dean pulls away with furrowed brows and, without looking, gingerly takes the crown from Cas and brings it up between their faces.

"This for me?" He says softly, suppressed smile making his lips quiver.

Cas only grins wide and bright and Dean grins back and hands it to Cas.

"Do me the honour?" He mumbles, sliding his other hand down to Cas' waist and ducking his head slightly.

Cas reaches up and sets it atop the blonde spikes, readjusting it once and letting his hands drop back down to Dean's shoulders.

Dean's head raises and Cas realises his beauty is enhanced about ten thousands times and his lips part again as he stares up his human.

"Thank you," Dean says, thumbs smoothing patterns into Cas's white work shirt.

He leans forward plants a peck of a kiss to Cas's lips before offering a soft smile.

"I love you," he doesn't mean to say it; really, it just claws its way up his throat and then stumbles through his mouth. Sudden anxiety grips his stomach and doesn't let go.

But Dean only stares into his eyes, lips parting, and then a tiny smile lifts the corners of his mouth - just barely, only enough for Cas to really notice.

He nods and whispers, "I love you, too."

The relief Cas feels is indescribable. He shoots up and kisses Dean again, tongues finding eachother and curling around eachother and their hands holding on for everything that is holy.

And Cas doesn't doubt that Dean means every word.


	26. Zombie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (definitely an AU to when stupid fucking metatron kills Dean) Dean is dead and Cas is kneeling by his side bawling his eyes out and somehow his gentle kiss brings Dean back

Castiel runs in with Sam, just in time to watch Metatron push the blade through Dean's chest.

Cas screams runs forward as Metatron disappears and skids to a stop on his knees beside Dean.

"Hey, no no no," he whispers, shaking his head vehemently and frantically tapping Dean's cheek.

He pants and a sob rips through his body. He looks back at Sam with panick in his eyes and Sam only stands there with this brows pulled in and up and his mouth open.

"No," he whispers, shaking his head again, and then turning back to Dean and shaking his head harder. " _No_!" He screams it this time and gathers Dean into his arms. He curls head to Dean's chest and he's not sure what he was expecting but there's no heartbeat and now it's real. It seems _too_  real, it _is_  real, and he's sobbing rocking Dean and he doesn't know whether it's because he thinks it'll help Dean or himself. "Nononono. You can't. You can't-Dean, come on. Please," he's trembling so hard that it takes everything he's still got to lift Dean.

Try to lift him at least.

And does he try. He gets Dean's torso up and tries to lift the rest of him and he can't he can't he can't because he's weak. He's so weak and he couldn't save him and now he's dead and godamnit he said he would never leave. Said he would stay for Cas. Said he wouldn't do anything stupid.

And Cas tries to lift him again only to drop him and collapse over his body, and he feels like he might vomit but he can't, he can't do anything, not now, no, he's too weak. Too weak.

So he just sobs, and shakes, and holds Dean - Dean who was his and who he never even got to say goodbye to. Dean whom he loved unconditionally and never got say it. Dean who now lies, bloody and dirtied and blank and lifeless in his arms and who will never get to smile again, never get to walk again, never get to look up and see the stars again or the moon, never get to feel the sun on his face again, never get to speak to Sam again, never get to cry or sleep or love or eat or feel wonder and awe and care and pain and anger again.

Cas will never see the sparkle in his green eyes or the lift of his sweet lips or the way he blushes when Cas smiles back or the comfortable gate of his walk or the ripple of his muscles or the slump of his back as he reads and drinks coffee or hear the sound of his voice when he sings or the carrying lilt of his laugh or the way he breathes. Cas will never get to kiss him or hold him and feel Dean hold him back. None of these things. Ever again.

And Cas's entire world has crumbled and fallen and the beautiful kingdom he's built in his own little mind comes tumbling down along with the sobs shooting from his mouth.

A hand lands on his shoulder and he swivels his head up slowly, and Sam meets his gaze with his own defeated, tired eyes. Tears have streaked through the dirt on his cheeks, and he drops his eyes.

"Cas--"

" _No_!" He screams again, ripping his shoulder away from Sam, who only lets his hand slip away defeatedly. "No! He's not-he _can't_  be! I won't...I won't believe it! I refuse to believe he's gone! No! He's...he's _Dean Winchester_. Dean...Dean doesn't _die_. Dean doesn't just...just _leave_  everyone he loves behind! He's...he's not dead," Cas says the last part quickly, shaking his head and switching his attentions back to Dean. "No, no he can't be...he can't because...because I _love_  him. He's...he's not allowed to--"

" _Cas_!" Sam shouts grabbing a shoulder and turning him around, then taking the other one and shaking him. "It's _over_! Can't you _see_?! He's _dead_! He's..." Sam's voice chokes off and he lowers his head. "He's gone," he whispers, nearly inaudibly.

"N-no...no!"

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head again, turning back to Dean, scrambling to his knees and cupping either side of Dean's face with trembling hands.

"No, you can't...you can't..." He trails off as he looks into Dean's listless eyes, half-lidded, lifeless...dead...

He shakes his head, giving in to the un-processable fact that he's gone.

He tilts his head presses a soft kiss to Dean's lips, just one last 'I love you', one he'll never hear from Dean again.

Cas drops his head back to Dean's chest and sits there, unmoving, for a very, very long time, the grimy glow of the emergency lights of the yellow factory pouring across his face and reminding him of how Dean died.

Honourably. But not the way he deserved.

 _Thump_.

What? What the hell was that--

_Thump. Thump._

Cas raises his eyes, stares at a spot on one of the grey cement columns across from him.

_Thump thump. Thump thump._

His lips part and he sits up so quickly he thinks he's given himself whiplash but he doesn't care. 

Sam lifts his head slowly beside him, brows furrowed, and reaches his hand out slowly, fingertips just barely brushing Cas's arm.

"Cas?"

"His heart."

"What?"

"His heart is beating..."

"What?! How is that--"

"I don't know!" Cas turns to Sam, bewilderment in his eyes. "I don't know."

Dean gasps and throws his back, and his hand shoots up to clutch at his chest where the blade plunged in.

His eyes are wide and unseeing for a moment, and then he's looking about wildly, brows pulling low over his panicked eyes.

He breathes for a long time, hand still clutching his chest, and then his eyes come to rest on Cas, then Sam, then Cas again, and he rasps, "Why am I not dead."

Cas lets out a relieved laugh, and jumps forward, swinging his arms around Dean's neck and locking them there. 

"You were!" He gasps, still shaking, and he feels Dean's arm slip around his waist.

"Sorry, Cas," Dean chuckles low and dark. "Didn't mean for that to happen."

"I know," he whispers, hugging Dean impossibly closer and burying his face in the hunter's neck. "I know."

\---

Dean holds Cas as close and tight as Cas is holding him, and stares down at his still limp feet, lips parted, brows sinking progressively lower. He twitches his eyes up slowly, and catches Sam's own stare, relieved...but sceptical, baffled. His mouth hangs open and his brows drop over his eyes but then he's smiling at Dean, shaking his head.

Dean's arm shifts with Cas' body and then he's staring up at his angel again.

"Hey Cas," he murmurs, Castiel's hand sliding back over his cheek.

"I love you," Cas whispers in return and Dean smiles softly, nodding after a second.

"Love you too, Cas," he gets out before Cas is kissing him.

He kisses back.

He can figure this out later.

For now...everything is okay.


End file.
